Rachel won't stop talking about the massage guy. 

It gets to the point where Kurt starts to reply in a genuinely bitchy way - only Rachel knows him, and knows that bitch is a bit of a default setting for Kurt, and that combined with her inherent touch of obliviousness to all people around her means she just doesn't get it. 

She doesn't get the way his face turns red and he gets shifty every time. She doesn't know that he went home after that first day and jerked off in his room thinking of warm honey eyes and a perfect mouth. 

She doesn't know at all that he'd never had a guy besides Karofsky put hands on him anyway. She knows about Karofsky, but as much as Kurt loves her Rachel reacted the same way as everyone else in New Directions to that. Once Karofsky stopped physically shoving him around, the problem was solved to them. None of them saw the way Karofsky's eyes followed Kurt everywhere he went, none of them knew about the way Karofsky would grab and manhandle him when no one else was around. 

He sort of lets himself off the hook when it comes to rampant fantasizing, given that the only person that has shown direct interest in him was Karofsky. He's a guy, he still has needs. And thoughts. And hands. And that'll do. 

(If you tell anyone I'll kill you.)

*

After a couple of days, Rachel gives up. Well, not so much gives up as gets distracted. Kurt is sure within the week she'll have settled on trying to fix Kurt up with someone else. 

He's relieved that Rachel lets it drop, but Kurt spends the next week devoting an embarrassing amount of time to thinking about Blaine Anderson. 

A search on facebook brings up seven profiles in NYC. It doesn't take him long to find the right one, but the profile is locked down. All Kurt can see are a couple of stupid polls (he definitely doesn't file away that Blaine prefers Spiderman to Batman) it is the profile picture; Blaine in jeans and a t-shirt, hair a little longer than when Kurt had met him, chunky black glasses on his face. 

Kurt's heart is pounding as he saves Blaine's profile picture to his desktop, in a folder he names Mystery. Then he rethinks and sticks it in his homework folder, under a tree of different assignments, like if he hides it well enough it won't matter. 

Except that he can't bring himself to close out of it, because that smile that's lighting up Blaine's face makes Kurt feel like he swallowed sunshine and he can't help but smile stupidly back. 

*

Another week passes. He keeps Blaine's card in his wallet, spotting it every time he pulls out his debit card to swipe it. Sometimes it makes him smile; sometimes it catches him off guard, and he feels so stupid for reacting so strongly to a bit of paper.

Twice he takes it out with the intention of dropping it into the trash. Twice, he puts it back into his wallet. 

He knows he's being ridiculous. 

He checks Blaine's facebook account definitely no more than twice a week. 

Fine. Twice a day. 

He's had crushes before. They come on strong then fade away. He'll get distracted, forget. It's not even like a real crush. He doesn't know a single thing about Blaine Anderson. 

(Except how his hands feel stroking over Kurt's skin.) 

*

Three weeks out. He's taken Blaine's business card out of his wallet and dropped it into a desk drawer. He's very proud of himself and that's why he doesn't feel too bad about logging into facebook. He doesn't have to type more than the Bl before the name it automatically pops up. 

There's something new on his wall. An event - some guy's birthday, something Blaine has RSVP'd to that has escaped the gnarled privacy settings for the website. Curiosity drives Kurt as he clicks and sees that it's at a club not too far away from the school. 

The next night. 

*

He deliberates and by the next afternoon he's decided to forget about it completely. 

Then Rachel bounces in. "We should go out!" Her voice is chipper as always. She does this every weekend, and ends up dragging Kurt to some karaoke bar, and sometimes it's fun. Kurt isn't a hermit, he's not a shrinking violet, he likes being around other people. He doesn't even mind flirting over a drink (even if his is usually non-alcoholic, because he doesn't trust what would come with alcohol, hates the idea that someone could touch him when he isn't entirely in control). 

So Kurt spends an hour putting together an absolutely fabulous outfit and doing his hair, then whirls out to find Rachel waiting. "Where did you have in mind?" 

Rachel rattles off the name of a bar. 

One that happens to be about two doors down from the club that one Mr. Blaine Anderson has RSVP'd at. 

The gay club Blaine Anderson has RSVP'd at. Kurt's not dumb. It's a party, someone invited him, that doesn't mean that Blaine is gay any more than it means Rachel is a lesbian when she attends pride events with Kurt. There are just as many LGBT supporters as they are actually gay people, which is a wonderful thing, and Blaine being at a gay club means nothing.

But Kurt isn't going to think about his stupid crush, so he ignores that the very best way he knows how. (Badly.)

*

It's going on ten and Rachel is wailing away on stage. She's been making eyes at some guy she met at the bar for hours and now they've started dueling karaoke, trading off on songs. 

Kurt can tell things are heating up by the song choice on both sides. It amuses him to no end how Rachel can wield music into anything she wants; even - maybe especially - a come on. It sort of fits for her, and Kurt likes it. 

But he's not drinking, and it's a straight bar, and it's kind of boring. Kurt loves the nights where he meets a new friend - usually a girl - and can spend the whole night gabbing away about fashion or theater or design. Tonight, the options are slim and he finds himself painfully bored. 

He pulls his phone out and sends Rachel a text, letting her know that he's heading home. She won't care; they've been here for hours already. She probably won't even check it until she's forced to take a drink break. 

*

He does intend on going home. He really does. But when he steps out into the cool air, leaving the pounding music behind him dulled to a faint throb in his ears, his feet decide to take him somewhere else. 

Teenage Dream. 

Kurt has walked past it a dozen times, but almost all in the light of day, when it just looks like... a building. A normal building with the neon sign off that looks just like every other building on the street. 

Right now it's looks terrifying to Kurt, but he goes in anyway. It's an 18+ bar so he doesn't even have to worry about his fake ID (the one Rachel had told him was absolutely necessary to their fitting into the wild night life on the great white way), just slips inside. 

He's been in gay clubs before, but not since the awful date and they still sort of make his skin crawl. He feels painfully alone in the moment so he heads to the bar because that just seems like what he should be doing. He orders a ginger ale and turns around with his back against the bar to wait for it. The club is crowded and even if Blaine Anderson is here, Kurt probably wouldn't run into him. The knowledge settles heavily in his stomach, a mix of relief and disappointment. 

He takes his drink and slides a five across the bar. He hangs there for five minutes, draining the small cup and then deciding that this is an absolutely idiotic thing to be doing. 

He decides to head to the bathroom them leave, go home like he'd told Rachel he was doing in the first place. It takes him a minute to find the bathrooms, pushing through crowds. He lets out a snarly grunt of annoyance when he hears obvious noises coming from one of the stalls, and decides the urinals are probably more sanitary anyway - less chance of accidentally touching anything. 

He takes care of it quickly and washes his hands thoroughly, reaffirming that this is his least favorite part of going out to clubs. The places Rachel chooses are normally a little higher class than this, and Kurt has always been just fine with her being the director of their would-be social calendar. Most of the time they're too busy rehearsing, working and studying to have too much free time, anyway.

He pushes his way out and runs smack into someone. He notices the outfit first, since his head had been down - his eyes land on a ridiculous bowtie with little musical notes, a black vest with a t-shirt on underneath, and red pants and definitely stand out in a crowd. Then the guy starts to talk and Kurt's head jerks up and he's staring right at that mouth that's been regularly making appearances in Kurt's dreams. Kurt can't see his eyes beyond the pink glasses that clash horribly with the rest of his outfit, but he doesn't need to, he already knows who this is. "Sorry, man," Blaine says. "Oh, hey! I know you!" 

The guy - Blaine, BLAINE! - is still close enough that Kurt can smell the alcohol on his breath. "Y-yes, I was-" 

"You came in for a massage - what was your name again? Oh, shit, wait, Joey! Hold- damn, he's gone. Uh, so, hi." Blaine doesn't even seem to realize that he's still grasping Kurt's arms where he'd ready out to steady himself after they'd run into each other. 

People push around them trying to get to the bathrooms. "We're in the middle of the hallway," Kurt points out, his voice coming out more brusque than he'd wanted. 

"What? Oh! Yeah. Look, I gotta go find Joe-" He says it like Kurt would even know who Joe is. His fingers dig into Kurt's arms briefly and he looks like he wants to say more but then he's gone. 

Kurt feels numb as he makes his way through the club. When he'd imagined running into Blaine, that was about the opposite of how he'd wanted it to go. Stupidly, childishly, he feels like crying. 

He lashes out at the throng of people dancing, shoving his way through in a way that most of them don't even notice. The music seems too loud now and it smells like smoke and sweat inside the club and he just wants fresh air and his bed. 

He's almost to the door when a hand grabs his arm. "Hey, you leaving? Were you here alone?" 

"Uh." Kurt definitely has a deer in the headlights look. "I came out with my friend Rachel, but she-" 

"Oooh," Blaine gets a knowing look in his eyes. "Well, good for her." 

"Well, not here," he says. "The Lyric Lounge. Karaoke. I just came over here because I got bored." 

He really hopes his voice isn't quite as high pitched as he feels like it is. 

"Well, my friends are having an epic pool tournament in the back with a couple of the dancers and I am so not coordinated enough for that right now, so come on. You can keep me company, I'll buy you a drink," Blaine says. 

Kurt's heart stops when he feels Blaine's hand in his, even if it's just for the purpose of not losing him across the floor. Blaine takes them to the bar, the far end of it where there are a couple of free stools. 

"What are you having?" Blaine asks, turning to try and flag down the bartender. Kurt greedily looks him over, the way when Blaine turns his shirt lifts up a little, the way his shirt is dampened at the back of the neck with sweat and his hair curls against his skin. 

"Ginger ale," Kurt says, then feels stupid because if that doesn't send out a large glaring UNDERAGE sign then he doesn't know what will. Blaine's birth date is blocked out on his profile, too, and Kurt has always been bad at judging age. 

But Blaine doesn't say anything, just orders a beer for himself and Kurt's ginger ale. "So," Blaine says, turning back to Kurt. "Wow. I can't believe I just ran into you like this. It's crazy, but I've never actually just ran into a client before! I mean, I've only been working there like, not quite three months? But it's crazy!" 

His voice is exuberant, and Kurt tells himself that the enthusiasm just comes from the alcohol he's obviously consumed in great amounts. "Yeah, crazy," Kurt says, forcing a smile. 

Blaine tilts his head and looks at him. "Something wrong?" 

"What?" Kurt sits up straighter, frowning. "No, why?" 

"You just look tense. You were... tense," Blaine says, and his smile doesn't waver but his voice does a funny thing that does equally funny things to Kurt's insides. "Sorry, I guess it's like, unprofessional? I shouldn't talk about it outside of work?" 

"Well, considering you're talking about it with me, I think it's all right," Kurt says, laughing, genuinely wanting to ease the sudden worry on Blaine's face. 

"Oh! That makes sense. Well, then - you were really tense. Like, super tense. You should totally come in and let me give you another massage. Or-" Blaine starts to say something and cuts himself off. "Like, I wouldn't mind." 

"I'm sure you wouldn't, I saw how much you charge." The minute the words leave Kurt's mouth he wishes he could take them back. The bitch-voice default setting shows through most strongly when he's nervous but the way Blaine's face falls makes Kurt feel absolutely awful. "It was worth it, though. It felt... really good." 

That makes Blaine smile a little again. "Good. You were nice to... touch. I mean, I get a lot of people in that I am just like, really, is it worth the money, but-" 

Kurt reaches over and claps his hand over Blaine's mouth. "Okay, now I think you might be nearing that line of unprofessionalism." 

Of course, putting his hand on Blaine's mouth has the unexpected side effect of being able to feel the softness of Blaine's lips and the warmth of his breath. Kurt pulls his hand back and his palm feels damper than before and he has ridiculous thoughts like, was his palm sweaty before? Did he just rub palm sweat on Blaine's mouth? But Blaine is just laughing and he doesn't seem to mind. "You're right. When I drink, my mouth just runs away with me. So you... don't?" 

He nods down at Kurt's cup. 

"Not since high school," Kurt says, and that is definitely not a story he's planning on going into right now. Maybe one day he'll catch back up with his peer group on the alcohol consumption front, but considering he's got a year to go before he's even legal yet he's in no hurry. 

"My buddies drag me out here," Blaine says, and Kurt isn't entirely shocked, because he really had known there was a good chance that Blaine wasn't gay (and really, him being straight would make the fantasies much less real and much more manageable, so it's a good thing, it is). "Not exactly my ideal place to pick up people." 

"And what is your ideal place?" Kurt asks, curious for no reason at all, definitely not because Blaine just played the pronoun game. 

Blaine shrugs, and then grins slyly. "I shouldn't say work, right?" 

Kurt gapes and then squawks, "Unprofessional!" 

Blaine's laugh is rich and loud. "I'm just kidding, I swear. I have never once picked up anyone after giving them a massage at work. I swear. Even if I wanted to." 

His eyes meet Kurt's and Kurt definitely absolutely has to pretend that he isn't seeing anything in that gaze, because if he lets himself think it's real then it'll just be that much more crushing when Blaine's magical blonde tanned perfect fashion model girlfriend that he has lots of hetereosexual sex with shows up out of nowhere. 

But then Blaine puts his hand on Kurt's hand and gives him a smile that's a little less open, a little more private, like it's just for Kurt. "I was really hoping you'd make another appointment." 

And that's about the third time Blaine has said that to him, and it terrifies him even more each time. "Was I really that tense?" 

Blaine laughs again, leaning in and resting his chin on his palm, elbow on the bar. He's turned toward Kurt and he looks at him speculatively. "Well, yeah." 

"Then... maybe I will." Kurt says. 

"Or I could just-" Blaine starts to say and Kurt has never wanted to hear the rest of a sentence more in his life, but he doesn't get to, because a group of people descend upon Blaine like he's been missing for years. One guy hangs over his shoulder, on leans into him, one reaches across to steal his beer, and a cute little blonde perches on his lap. "Lauren! Come on!" 

"Did Blaine-y find a new friend?" The dark haired guy coos, stumbling a little. 

"I think he was trying to," the blonde says, perfectly comfortable sharing Blaine's space. 

"We'll go away again if you buy a round, B!" Someone says. Someone very close to Kurt's ear. 

Kurt is suddenly aware that someone is behind him too and his heart starts to pound, knowing logically that this is not high school and someone standing behind him doesn't mean imminent pain, but he still feels lightheaded and suddenly claustrophobic. 

"I need to go," Kurt says, getting up quickly. 

He wants to think that Blaine's face falls but he doesn't honestly give it more than a glance before he's walking away as quickly as he can.